Building Trust
by angie1379
Summary: In the episode After Hours, Martha and Jim find common ground in their mutual worry for their children. During the course of their conversation, they reassure each other that Castle and Beckett both feel safest when the other is watching their back. Here are four scenarios, two each, of how Martha and Jim came to know that.
1. Chapter 1

In the episode _After Hours_, Martha and Jim find common ground in their mutual worry for their children. During the course of their conversation, they reassure each other that Castle and Beckett have both said they feel safest when the other is watching their back. Here are four scenarios, two each, of how Martha and Jim came to know that.

* * *

**Building Trust**

**Chapter 1 – Castle and Martha, Season Two, post-Sucker Punch**

The loft is empty when Castle returns from his impromptu dinner with Beckett. He'd gone to the precinct with every intention of relieving her of the burden of his interference – something he had finally admitted was long overdue. He wasn't a cop, and he had no right to manipulate his way into her investigations – and her life. She didn't want him in either one. Or so he thought.

The truth of the reluctant confession she'd made only hours ago swirls around his heart and fills him with a sense of hope that he'd just about given up on. After eighteen months of being reminded daily of what an unwanted pest he's been, her words were like water to a dying plant. He makes her job fun, she'd said. Could there be any higher praise from the no-nonsense, by the book, unflinching detective? He doesn't think so. And so, instead of walking away and giving her the peace of mind he thought his departure would provide, they had enjoyed a dinner of culinary fusion guaranteed to give them both indigestion for the next two days. But it will be worth it to have seen that unreserved smile directed his way as they talked over the best places to get egg rolls, ice cream, gnocchi, and even a simple hamburger. He had made a mental note that she likes Remy's, and he hopes he can use that to his advantage one day soon.

Sitting on his sofa, he thinks back over the meal and hopes it served its intended purpose of distracting and relaxing her after what was probably the hardest day she'd faced in a long time. She is strong as steel, no doubt, but that doesn't mean he can't offer whatever small gesture she'll allow to ease some of that weight from her shoulders. And food never seems to fail, which is fine with him.

His thoughts are so wrapped up in thinking about Beckett and the day she'd been through that he barely registers the front door opening until it slams shut again.

"Richard Castle!"

His mother's tone brings back memories of being caught with a bottle of Johnny Walker Red and sixteen-year-old Lindsey Whats-Her-Name in his bedroom. Only this is worse.

"Mother, what's wrong?" he says quickly as he stands up and confronts her as she strides purposefully into the living room.

"Have you seen the news? How dare you not call me. Let me summarize what's on television as we speak. Hostage situation at the NYPD's 12th precinct. Suspect shot and killed by Detective Kate Beckett." She stops and stares at him for the span of a breath before demanding, "Who was the hostage, Richard? Who would Detective Beckett square off with an armed suspect to save?"

"Honestly, just about anybody. It's her job," he tries to point out. While the answer is technically true, he knows better than to think it will be enough in this case. And Martha does not disappoint.

"Who do you think you're kidding? This wasn't any case. This was tied to her mother's murder. This was personal, and that psychopath knew that, didn't he? So who was the hostage, Richard?"

There's no getting out of this. His mother is too sharp. And she's too right.

"It was me. I was the hostage," he admits quietly.

Her hands fly to her mouth before she rushes toward him and wraps her arms around him. "Oh my God, Richard, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mother, really. I've got a bruise on my side, and my arm's sore. But other than that, I'm fine."

"What happened? How did you get into a situation like that?" Her voice is frantic, but he knows her imagination will conjure far worse scenarios than the truth. So he tells her.

"The man that killed our victim turned out to be the same man who killed Beckett's mother all those years ago. He was a contract killer named Dick Coonan and was hired to kill Johanna Beckett. When we confronted him, he tried to escape by using me as a shield. Beckett shot him to save me, and lost her only lead on her mother in the bargain." The last part comes out laced with all the pain and guilt he still can't shake.

"Oh, that poor woman. How's she holding up?"

Castle smiles and answers honestly. "She's doing okay. Shaken up – we all are, but she's strong. We'll get through it and find another lead."

Martha pauses and takes a seat on the sofa. "What do you mean 'we'? Don't tell me you plan to keep shadowing her. Isn't this exactly what she's been saying she's so afraid of, you getting caught in the line of fire? Richard, you could have been killed, and for what? Fodder for a book?"

"You know it's more than that, Mother. I can't walk away now. I thought I could, and I was planning to, but do you know what she said? She asked me to stay. She actually asked me not to leave." His voice takes on an almost reverent tone, and Martha is struck by the emotion behind his words.

"I admire your loyalty to her, but darling, you're not a cop. You're not trained for this, and I think today is more than enough proof that you're in over your head."

"It's not just loyalty, Mother. I'm not a puppy. We've started to make a pretty good team in the last few months. She's starting to trust me, and God knows I trust her with my life. Obviously. Yes, there are risks. I know that. But I don't doubt for one minute she can compensate for what I lack in weapons and combat training."

"But should she _have_ to compensate for you? Shouldn't she have a real partner who can cover her?"

His face hardens at the sting of her words, but then he eases up when he's forced to admit it's a fair question, if harsh. "She does have real partners. She has Ryan and Esposito. And I'm not too bad at holding my own, better than you'd think. I've gotten us out of some sticky situations, and I've helped, really helped, with these cases. Do you really think she'd let me hang around, mayor or not, if all I did was make her job harder?"

Martha nodded in acceptance of his logic. "I'm just worried about you, darling," she says in defeat, knowing she's not going to talk him out of doing something he so obviously loves – to say nothing of the magnetic pull of the woman at the center of it all.

"I know you are, and I know that's probably not going to go away. But believe me when I say I'm as safe as anyone can be working with the police. Most days, we interview witnesses, sort through evidence, and fill out paperwork. Days like today are the extreme exception. But when they happen, when someone has a gun on us, or we're chasing a suspect through traffic, or we have to go into an abandoned warehouse, I feel safe following Beckett in because I know she won't let anything happen to me. And I'll do whatever I can to make sure nothing happens to her."

It was a moving speech, but it did its job.

"She really is special to you, isn't she?"

Castle nods, but doesn't elaborate. His feelings for the detective are his alone, and until he's a little more sure of his role in her life, he will keep them to himself. She's finally accepted him in her life, if only in a nebulous role on the job, but it's enough for now. He is content to see where it might lead in time.

Martha stands and pats her son on the knee, "You two take care of each other out there, you promise?"

"We will, Mother," Castle promises. "We will."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Kate and Jim, Season Three, post-Countdown**

"Sounds like you were in a bit of a tight spot the other day," Jim says conversationally, failing to mask the sharp edge of worry that cuts through his words.

"Yeah, you could say that," Kate replies, not surprised her father has seen the papers. The bomb was front-page news, after all, and even though the worst details remain confidential, her name had been repeatedly mentioned in connection with Homeland Security and the NYPD's investigation into a domestic terrorist threat. She could hardly blame her father for asking about it.

With the subject broached and acknowledged, Jim sees no reason not to cut to the chase. "So, what happened, Katie? What can you tell me that the papers left out?"

It might have taken the better part of ten years, but Jim can finally listen to stories about his daughter's job without losing a week's sleep over it. While she's careful not burden him with every gory detail, there are some cases a cop's father has the right to know about. Diffusing a dirty bomb is definitely one of those cases.

"It was close, Dad. Too close." She twirls her fork throughout her pasta without actually winding any around the tines. The food is merely a prop as she works through what to tell him. "Castle and I were face-to-face with a bomb that had less than a minute to go on the timer."

Jim utters a curse under his breath, but is otherwise speechless. How does his daughter find the strength to do what she does?

"We caught the suspects, located the hostage, and even had a bomb squad en route. But it wasn't enough. We were too late. Backup was still ten blocks away, and neither one of us had any idea how to stop that clock."

"Well, something must have happened. You're still here. The city is still here."

She smiles at his obvious comment. "Only because of Castle," she says, before flashing back to those final seconds, at a loss for solutions and watching her life and Castle's tick by with so much left unresolved, especially between the two of them. She thought for sure her number was up, and she had fifteen seconds to make peace with that. Somehow, she thinks she did.

"He saved my life, Dad. He saved a lot of lives with his stupid, reckless, determination. It never would have occurred to me to just yank out the wires, but Castle thought of it. One last ditch effort. After every conventional effort failed, he figured, what do we have to lose? And I'm here because he didn't give up." She pauses for the span of a heartbeat, then adds quietly, "He never gives up."

Her voice drifts off as she becomes keenly aware there is more to her words than she intends. But those, she tells herself, are thoughts for another day.

"Wow," Jim gushes in a release of breath, his own fork clenched tight in his hand. But before he can continue, Kate speaks up again.

"It's not the first time, either, you know."

Jim cocks his head in confusion before asking drolly, "Diffusing a bomb? Is he a writer or a secret agent?"

Kate chuckles at his attempt at humor, "Maybe a little of both. But I'm pretty sure this was his first – and hopefully last – encounter with a bomb. What I meant was, it's not the first time he's saved my life."

"Oh?" Jim inquires, sensing her need to sort through some things. To ease the tension of talking about the bomb, he resumes eating. Meals with his daughter are too few and far between for his taste, and he enjoys listening to her open up about her life. He's grateful the familiar surroundings of his apartment seem to put her more at ease than she ever seems when they meet at a café or restaurant. It's too rare that he sees her peek out from under the armor of her job. But tonight, she seem to want to talk, and he' more than happy to let her.

"Castle's a good partner, Dad, far better than I give him credit for."

"As good as the other two guys?" Jim asks, intrigued by her sudden defense of the man who has gone from being an "insufferable pain in the ass" to "annoying tagalong" to finally "my partner" as of about a month ago. But Jim still can't ignore the fact that the NYPD has his daughter teamed up with a civilian, and he's more than passing intrigued by Kate's growing estimation of him.

"In different ways, yes," Kate assures him. "Esposito is as tough as they come. He knows more about weapons, military procedure, and life on the streets than anyone in the precinct."

"And the other fella, Ryan?"

Kate pauses and gauges her words carefully. "It's easy to misjudge Ryan – and a lot of people do, to their own detriment – because he comes across as so boyish and affable. They don't see the sharp mind and steel core that lets him stand up to anything."

"They sound like good cops," Jim concludes, knowing Kate is not one to offer false or inflated compliments.

"The best," she says, thinking back to their ordeal with Lockwood a month ago and all they'd gone through for her. How do you explain that to someone who wasn't there?

"So where does Castle fit in?"

The question startles her out of her reverie and pulls her back around to the original topic. Castle. It always comes back to him, doesn't it?

"What can I say? He's impulsive, reckless, immature, and completely lacking any respect for police procedure."

It wasn't what she'd intended to say, but it's what she's used to saying. And while not untrue, such a description is hardly comprehensive, and she knows it.

"Any yet he saved your life," Jim reminds her, "more than once."

Kate can't deny it – doesn't want to. "Yes, he has," she says solemnly. She pauses, collects her thoughts, and decides she needs to share these persistent feelings with someone. She needs to let it out, allow it to become real and replace the false front she's been hiding behind for too long. And besides, if you can't be honest with your dad, well, who can you open up to?

"The truth is, we make a really good team. I've lost count of the cases I wouldn't have solved without him. He's taken down suspects and followed me into dozens of unknown situations. He constantly puts his life on the line as readily as any cop I've ever known." She takes a deep breath and forges ahead. "The fact is, if Montgomery offered me another partner tomorrow, I'd turn him down, Dad. The only person I trust to have my back is Castle. He's my partner, end of story."

The confession is unprecedented, and it's on the tip of Jim's tongue to ask if that's all Castle is, a partner. By the sound of it, his daughter's feelings run a lot deeper than she's letting on. However, one look at her face is enough to convince him she's admitted enough already. She does not open up easily, and he knows well that adding personal feelings into the mix, regardless of how relevant they might be, will only result in a heated denial and an end to the conversation.

So instead, he asks, "Can I ask what changed, Katie? When did he stop being the twelve-year-old on a sugar high who drove you crazy?"

"Nine-year-old," she mutters, but answers as honestly as she can. "I don't know. It's not like there was this one pivotal moment where everything changed. And he still acts like a kid half the time, but I guess he's just proven that there's more to him than that. I can trust him when I need to, with anything. He's there, all the time, willing to help, or listen, or back off if I ask."

Her voice drifts off as she thinks back on the two and a half years they've worked together. Yeah, Castle has done some pretty memorable stuff for her, and she hasn't always given him the acknowledgement he deserves – mostly because he still as an unmitigated capacity to drive her nuts.

When she pulls her eyes back to her dad's, she sees an amused expression on his face that she's not sure she wants to ask about. More than likely, he's reading more into their conversation than he should, she thinks, which leads her to conclude it's time to move on.

"Anyway, I guess I finally have to admit I'm glad to have him around. If nothing else, I owe him one for saving me from being vaporized by a bomb a few days ago."

Jim winces at the reminder, then offers his own summation, "I'm just glad you have someone who cares about you and is able to look out for you – on the job," he adds hastily when he realizes how his words might sound. Seeing her eyes widen, he decides to quickly change the subject. "So, ah, how are things with your fella, Josh?"

Kate regains her composure after what she stubbornly refuses to call his Freudian slip, and answers with all the enthusiasm she can muster, "Great. Really great, in fact. We have a date this weekend to see _Book of Mormon_."

"That sounds like fun."

"Tickets are almost impossible to get, but somehow he managed."

Jim expects her to elaborate, but instead finds her staring intently at her remaining meatball. He can't help but notice that the change of subject brought with it a decrease in Kate's level of enthusiasm. Now, why is it that talk of her boyfriend doesn't elicit the same spark of interest as talking about Castle? Though he knows it's best to keep his suspicions to himself, Jim is forced to wonder if the writer has more than Kate's back in his care. It seems to him, whether she knows it or not, that Richard Castle may very well have her heart as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Rick, Martha, and Alexis, Season Four, Post-Cops and Robbers**

Castle wakes up to the aroma of waffles and coffee wafting through the loft. Making his way to the kitchen, he sees his daughter manning the waffle iron while his mother pours that sweet nectar of the gods into an oversized mug.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asks, alerting them to his presence.

His daughter greets him with a kiss and the steaming cup Martha had just poured, trusting the hazelnut scent would portend her son's imminent arrival.

"Well, I figured since Gram did such a spectacular job with dinner last night, I could follow up this morning with an encore," Alexis explains.

"I take that to mean you're feeling a little better about … things," he hedges, not sure how direct to be when asking her about her break-up with Ashley.

To his immense relief, she nods, "A little, yeah. It's still a bit tender, but the fact is Ash and I haven't been together, like as a couple, since he left. Yesterday was just a formality."

Castle pulls her close, tucking her head under his chin. "You tried, honey, and that's what counts. And remember, just because this long-distance relationship didn't work out, doesn't mean it can never work. It's about the relationship, not the circumstances."

"Thanks, Dad," she whispers, giving him a last squeeze and returning to the iron on the counter.

"How about you, Mother? How are you faring this morning?"

Martha rolls her eyes and sighs, "Being a hostage is exhausting."

Castle chuckles and replies, "Can't disagree with you there. It was a tough day for everyone."

"How's Kate holding up? She was under as much pressure as anyone yesterday, having to talk to that dreadful mercenary all day."

"I think she's okay. She was in good spirits when she left last night." His mind flickers back wistfully to their dinner and visit afterward. Having her in his house, casual, relaxed and friendly, was a rare gift – one that he does not take for granted.

"You didn't let her walk home, did you, or take the subway?" Martha asks, ready to pounce if he did.

"Of course not," he states indignantly, "I called a service and had her picked up, much to her annoyance."

"Good, it was the right thing to do."

Silence falls around the room for all of five seconds before Martha takes the stage and declares with some gravitas, "You know, Richard, in all the years you've been following Beckett around, I don't think I've ever seen you two actually work together until now."

"Is that so?" he asks mildly, not sure what she's getting at.

"Don't look at me like that," she says pointedly when she sees the uncertainty on his face. "I just mean to say that you really do make a good team. We may not have gotten out of there, and that poor woman in Ithaca might be dead now if you two didn't know each other so well."

"Thank you, Mother," he says, sincerely touched by her words, but not sure how she arrived at her conclusion. "Can I ask what prompted this observation? Beckett and I weren't even in the same room most of the day, let alone working together."

Alexis gives up on the pretense of making waffles and listens attentively to her father and grandmother's conversation. She'd spent most of the day with other bystanders and still doesn't know many of the details of what happened in that bank.

"Well, true," Martha acknowledges, "but you had no doubt she'd understand your message about the safe deposit box, did you? And when she came in as the EMT, you got yet another message to her. And all that is what led to figuring out why the bank was robbed in the first place. And you never once doubted she'd get us out. I wonder how many partners have that level of trust and communication between them."

Castle stands speechless at the counter. It has been a good, long while since he's thought about the dynamics of his working relationship with Beckett. So much of his energy has been focused on the pacing of their personal relationship that he hadn't really considered how well they operate as a team these days. He supposes they really are pretty unique.

Castle is so focused on considering his mother's words that he almost forgets Alexis is there as well until she speaks up. "Gram's right, Dad. When I got there yesterday, I was a wreck. All I wanted to do was blame someone, and Beckett was as good a target as any. I told myself it would be her fault if you got hurt, even though she had nothing to do with you being in there. But she promised to get you out, and I think she would have done anything to make that happen."

"You're both right," he says, unable to stop the surge of emotion for all the amazing women in his life. "You know it hasn't always been easy for us, especially now, but I have never doubted her willingness and ability to save my butt when needed. I couldn't be out there working with the police like this if she wasn't so damn good at her job."

Martha reaches out and places her hand on his forearm. "You forget, Richard, I was there in that vault. I saw the way she looked at you. I have no doubt she has your back, but you're kidding yourself if you think it's only because it's her job."

On that score, he struggles to keep the intensity of his hope in check, but he also doesn't want to say too much, particularly in front of Alexis. "That may be," he says cautiously, "but right now, I'll take just being her partner, working with her, and keeping an eye on her."

"Good enough," Martha says, adding wryly, "Just so you're more careful on the job than you seem to be in choosing banks."

He shoots her a smirk while he piles two waffles on his plate, and it's on the tip of his tongue to offer some smartass remark. Instead he reconsiders and opts to give her back at least a piece of the security she lost after spending a day as a hostage. "I am, Mother. Beckett's gotten us – me – out of a lot of jams over the years, and I'm not going to repay her determination to keep me in one piece by doing something stupid to get either one of us hurt. We're partners. We look out for each other."

Martha just nods gently but stays quiet as she helps herself to some strawberries and cream. However, Castle's serenity as he cuts into his breakfast is interrupted when Alexis breaks the silence and asks, "So, um, what did you and Beckett do last night after Gram and I went to bed?"

His eyes fly up, but the look on his daughter's face is genuine, innocent curiosity. Unfortunately, the intrigued gleam in his mother's eye is anything but.

But he recovers quickly and says simply, "Well, we talked about the case a little and drank some wine. Then she went home. Nothing special."

"Oh Richard," Martha laments, "a woman saves your life and all you can offer her in return is 'nothing special'? Sounds like you're losing your touch, kiddo."

Castle arches an eyebrow and aims his reply carefully. "Respectfully, Mother, I think Beckett would beg to differ."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Kate and Jim, Season Four, post-Headhunters**

"How can someone who's so smart be such an idiot?" Kate asks rhetorically as she paces across her living room. "I get that he's mad at me, but hanging out with the worst representation of the NYPD, and putting on some macho, tough-guy act? What's that about?"

On the sofa, Jim Beckett hides a grin behind a bite of shrimp lo mein. He doesn't mean to be insensitive; he knows this is a troubling matter for his daughter. But the answer is just so darn obvious, it's almost comical. Still, Kate needs his support, and maybe she needs to be asked a few tough questions that he's been holding back longer than he should have.

"Kate, what are you really mad about? Obviously, something changed between the two of you – "

"'_Something'_ didn't change," she interrupts, "he changed. I thought we were getting closer, and then he just pulls away like the last three years haven't happened."

She sits down and stabs her fork into a carton of bourbon chicken. It's nearly the same conversation she had with Dr. Burke a few days earlier, but she still doesn't have any answers, and the frustration is becoming unbearable.

"I trusted him, Dad, with everything." Her voice is raw and full of emotion as she fights back tears. "He saved my life when my car went into the river. He gave me space to deal with my PTSD. Since practically Day One, I trusted him with mom's case, and we got further in two years than I did in ten. And that's all because of him. How does he just walk away from all that?"

Jim regrets his earlier amusement, mild though it was. His daughter appears the very embodiment of misery, and he can only hope he doesn't make it worse.

"Exactly how close had the two of you gotten?" he asks cautiously, "Were you dating yet?"

"No, nothing like that," she sighs, "but we were getting there. We were spending more time together outside of work, and I was close to being ready to tell him how I feel, that I want to see if there can be more between us." It is the most honest admission she's made to anyone besides her therapist, and she is surprised to find how easy it is to give voice to what she wants. "That's what I've been working toward all this time, and I thought he understood that."

"Is that still what you want? To … have a relationship with him?" he asks haltingly. Jim wonders briefly if it ever gets easier to talk about romantic relationships with one's daughter. Given she is 32 years old and he still has to force the words out, he doubts it. But he tells himself she's an adult, is entitled to be in a relationship, and it's his responsibility to accept that and help her to be happy.

_Yeah, good luck with that,_ he thinks.

Kate sniffs and blots her eyes, looking up to meet her father's. "Ideally, yes, of course. But right now, at this moment, I just want my partner back. Ryan was right – it feels like he's cheating on us?"

"Us?"

"The team," she explains. "I'm not the only one his little tantrum is affecting. I'm pretty sure I'm the cause of it, but Ryan and Espo are his partners, too, and they don't exactly appreciate being thrown over for the likes of Ethan Slaughter."

"I take it they've noticed what's been going on then?" Jim ventures.

Kate scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Oh, yeah. They still bailed him out of trouble and weaseled basketball tickets out of him, but you can tell it's strained." She thinks back to her conversations with both of her other partners and their obvious sense of personal betrayal mingled with poorly disguised sympathy for her. The big brother sentiment is equal parts endearing, annoying, and humiliating, which is exactly why she's always struggled to keep her personal life private. Still, she knows they are hurting as well, and that just fuels her own frustration at Castle. "There's a code, you know. Among cops. You just don't do what he did. But he's not a cop, and he doesn't know these things. He's selfish, and when he lost interest in us, he simply moved on."

Jim gives her all of two seconds to indulge in her fictional reality before calling her out. "You really think it's that simple, Kate?" he asks with a pointed stare. They both know better, and he's not going to let her settle for an easy excuse. "Do you really think he just 'lost interest'?"

"No," she mutters, even though it felt good to package him up in a tidy, self-centered box for just a moment. But with that self-indulgent moment over, her thoughts move back in the direction of her personal feelings, which aren't quite as removed from her professional feelings as they might have been a year or two earlier. "We've had fights before, big ones, over cases and over personal things. But we got through them. We got through me disappearing on him all last summer, and I'm sorry for it, even though I'd probably make the same selfish decision again. But he forgave me. Then we got through the case with the mayor just a few months ago, and that was harder than I thought. I was so afraid I'd lose him if Weldon was guilty. But I know this isn't about a case, Dad. It's about something else – I just don't know what. If he's tired of waiting and wants to move on, then okay, fine. I'll find some way to deal with it. But right now, it feels like I've lost everything – even something I didn't have yet."

Jim lets her words settle around them, perhaps even giving her a chance to take them back. When she stays quiet, he pushes forward. "I don't want to upset you further, but honey, it doesn't sound like you're talking about someone who's just a partner. It sounds like you're talking about someone you're in love with." The words are said as gently as he can utter them, and judging by her quiet acceptance, he suspects with relief that this isn't the first time the idea has crossed her mind.

"I imagine it does," she says simply. "But that's just it, Dad. He's become so many things in my life. Somehow he's become the person I go to – for everything. He makes me feel safe, and not just on the job, but there, too. I know he's watching my back – or I used to. Now, I don't even know if he's watching his."

"Have you told any of this to him?" Jim asks, as curious as Kate about the cause of this change in the man who Jim was fairly certain shared his daughter's feelings.

"No in so many words," she admits.

"Well, maybe it's time to. If you're right about his behavior, then it doesn't sound like you have a lot to lose – and you may in fact lose more by staying quiet. I can't say I agree with his behavior right now, but if you hold on to your pride as fiercely as he is, it won't do either of you any good."

Kate nods and considers his words, picking at her fried rice without any actual interest. "I just want to know why. I think I can deal with the rest if he'll just give me a chance to talk about it."

"Katie, as a father, I want nothing more than to take a two-by-four upside his head and ask him why he's hurting my little girl …"

"Dad …" she says rhetorically, rolling her eyes at his dramatics.

"I know. And I know you're not sixteen." He pauses, takes a breath, and plows ahead, figuring his ability to do so indicates he's reached some higher evolutionary stage of parenting. "You love him, sweetheart. Anyone can see that. But I think you need to stop seeing that as a weakness or a threat. Maybe it's time you trusted him with your heart as much as you trust him with your life."

Kate's eyes fall to her lap, and her first thought is, _checkmate_. In one sentence, her father went straight to the heart of her problem. She hasn't trusted Castle with her heart and has been afraid to trust they could have more between them than partnership. She's kept him at arm's length personally, while relying on him more and more in her work. She allowed them to get closer, to talk and laugh, to share stories and give advice, all under the pretense of solving cases. She has consistently kept that barrier of the job between them, using murders and evidence as an excuse to call him because she wants to hear his voice or to go to dinner because she wants more time with him – or most recently, to show him how much she loves him. Isn't that the real reason she helped him with Slaughter's case? For the better part of a year, she's expected him to accept what she has been comfortable with, never venturing too far or saying too much, all the while knowing he would be there, every day, every case, always watching her back. He never let her down – until now.

Well, maybe it's time she offers him a progress report and makes sure they both know where things stand. Maybe it's up to her this time to give him some space, prove she'll be there for him, and find the first opportunity to make sure he knows it.

"Thank you, Dad," she says with every ounce of sincerity she possesses. "Castle is a great partner, the best I could ask for. But that's not all he is. I thought he knew that, but maybe I need to remind him I'm not just stringing him along. I haven't been putting us through this waiting game for the hell of it. I do want more."

She pauses and lets all of the emotions of the past several weeks filter through this new perspective, and finally adds, "But that doesn't mean he still hasn't been a jackass the last few weeks."


End file.
